To the Moon for it is very pretty and littlepooch said you's might like it.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, though maybe a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The giftee was nestled all snug in her beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in her head.
And I in my underwear, and not much more than that,
Had just racked my brains for a long winter’s snack.
When out on my brain there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the kitchen to make what was the matter.
Away to the computer I flew like a flash,
Tore though the log in and click up the Flash...9
The moon was drawn on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to crafted objects below.
When, what to my image manipulating eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I drew in a moment what look kinda like St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And I hastened, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
Copy on, Comet! Paste on, Cupid! Paste on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now shade away! shade away! shade away shadows to all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I drew on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew on my monitor, and was changing scenes around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he was drawn like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were roses pasted, his nose copied from a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I drew him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to add.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
And filled all the scenes, then turned with a jerk.
And sadly laying my finger aside of infamous alt-F10,
And the scream clean, down did my head slam!
I sprang from my desk, to the world gave a scream,
And away in Africa all knew the pain such a shout means.
But I heard dad exclaim, ‘ere he woke out of the sleep,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to bed you'd better leap!!!!"
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Yeahhh.... scanner died a painful death.... hope you like.
*runs for cover*
